


Red Roses

by BraTwo



Category: A Monster in Paris
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-04
Updated: 2012-02-04
Packaged: 2017-10-30 14:59:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/333005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BraTwo/pseuds/BraTwo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raoul gives Lucille some roses. Francoeur investigates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Roses

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my roommate

They had appeared one morning in the dressing room like magic. The pale white vase that had sat on top of the piano was finally full of something. A lot of something, in fact. Francoeur remembered the time he had hidden in the piano. There had been nothing in the vase back then. He was glad Lucille had managed to save it from shattering on the ground when he’d emerged. She clearly loved it a lot, and Francoeur never wanted to see her sad. He never ever wanted to make her cry again.

The… _stuff_ inside the vase was big and green. Like those plants that had surrounded him when he’d first been altered into this large form. He let out a few sweet chirrups and moved closer to better inspect the situation. Reaching out his hairy arms, he gently caressed one of the large red spheres on top. Tilting his head to the side, the hummed a tune and leant forward.

As he got closer, a sudden smell struck him. He paused and let it brush over him before he felt his insides turn to jelly. He chirruped quickly, leaning down and rubbing his blue cheek against the red bud in front of him. It smelt sweet and fresh.

“Francoeur!”

The flea was suddenly broken out of his love-affair. His eyes lit up at the sound of Lucille’s sweet voice and he turned around. He reached up a glove-covered hand and pulled one of the red objects free, offering it out towards the beautiful girl.

Lucille blinked at the gesture and laughed, “What are you doing?” she asked, the accent on her voice purring inside Francoeur’s head. Her smile lit up her pale, delicate features and sent a warm flush over Francoeur’s body.

He wriggled the object towards her, cooing several noises and humming in time with the movements of his hand. He wanted her to take it, but wasn’t quite sure why the action felt natural. Perhaps he’s seen Emile do the same for Maude once…

Looking from Lucille to the object, Francoeur noted it was the same shade as her hair. He loved the way it never quite tied back properly, leaving those two strands to frame her face.

“Those are roses,” Lucille explained sweetly, moving over to cup the head of the flower. She lent her nose to it, quite curiously, and sighed happily. “Raoul bought them for me. Isn’t he an idiot?” The tone of her voice and the warmth in her eyes betrayed her, though. She clearly didn’t think Raoul was quite the idiot as he had been before.

Francoeur pulled the rose back and looked over it once again. He leant his face into it and melted at the fragrance again. He might like roses. He was still discovering a lot about these humans and their world.

Lucille smiled. “They smell very sweet, don’t they? Red roses are for love. Isn’t that funny? Raoul, loving me.”  
  
Francoeur wondered what was so funny about it, actually. If these roses were a symbol of the feelings Raoul held for the pretty woman, then he shouldn’t be interfering. He turned and slipped the rose back in with all the others. He smiled and clicked proudly, turning to face Lucille. He opened his mouth and sang a few soft notes.

Lucille’s eyes lit up and she laughed- a sound much sweeter than anything in the world. She sought out his hands with her own and brushed the back of the white gloves. The thin objects underneath the gloves, betraying his true self, didn’t put her off in the slightest.  She parted her pink lips and sang back in harmony.

Raoul might send flowers, but Francoeur could reach right out and capture Lucille’s heart with only the music on his tongue. And each time she sang back without fail.

Francoeur squeezed her hands gently back and promised himself he would never let her go.

 


End file.
